A Thorn in the Flesh
by Leanna DeAvignon
Summary: On Hiatus till my brain starts working again. Arthur Hellsing has brought home somebody new- and Alucard isn't allowed to feed on this human. Takes place before The Dawn.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: My gawd, how long has it been since I posted something? Bleh, never mind, I don't wanna think about it. Anyway, here's something I've been sitting on for a while. I'll add more chapters as I hammer them out. Please review, I need to know what I should improve.**

Alucard was human once. It was a long time ago, but the memories clung desperately to the very fringes of his mind, every now and then clawing at his consciousness and reminding him of those bitter, dark days. However in spite of the lingering phantom of humanity, Alucard could never quite understand this thing his master referred to as "human sympathy-" nor could he remember ever understanding it.

Alucard was more than happy to be left to his own devices during the night and was reluctantly grateful towards his young master for that freedom. Young Arthur Hellsing had seen the things his father did to the creature and, for reasons unknown to the former count, took relative pity. Arthur gave the dog of the fledgling Hellsing organization a bed and ordered him to a corner of the mansion that he could call his own. Alucard was more than happy to once again have his heavy onyx coffin and the deepest, darkest crevice of the Hellsing dungeon to call his own. He remained cautious of his captor's son in the months following Abraham's death, though it quickly became apparent that Arthur has no interest in messy things like dissecting or experimentation. He was far too busy spending his father's money on alcohol and women. For a time, Alucard basked contentedly in the absence of attention.

But one day Arthur came home not with a woman, as was usually the case, but with someone much… smaller. Alucard could smell this new human's blood all the way from the basement. The vampire inhaled deeply, taking in every element of the scent and assessing it with greater finesse than most wine tasters could ever hope for. It wasn't tainted blood, as was the blood of all of Arthur's women who, if Alucard ever got thirsty, would become nothing more than shuffling ghouls. No, this was fresh, innocent blood. The faintness of it gave away the person's diminutive size, and it couldn't have been someone older than five or six. What could Arthur possibly be doing with a child? He'd had no wife that Alucard knew of. On nights when Arthur was in a drunken stupor, he would sometimes order the vampire to sit in the library with him, and he would tell Alucard every grisly detail of his intimate life. Alucard heard many colorful stories, but never heard a word on marriage. Out of curiosity, and because sleep was not finding him in the dungeon, Alucard drifted up through the floor, following the tantalizing scent. He absently considered that perhaps his master had been kind enough to offer him a snack, and the idea provided him with some acceleration up through the stone. As he silently broke the surface of the floor, he discovered that the source of the aroma was a young boy with raven black hair and large, azure eyes. The boy was scratching at his newly starched white button-down shirt with some annoyance when he looked up and saw the fearsome creature floating before him. His eyes widened and he ran to hide behind Arthur's legs, a panicked yelp escaping his tiny throat. From there he stared up, wide-eyed, at the huge creature before him. It had long, thick, wavy black hair and a heavy moustache that framed a sturdy-looking face and beady red eyes that glared down at him. It wore plate armor over most of its body and covered it all with a burgundy cape chained at the neck. Arthur glared at his servant and patted the boy on the head, which confused Alucard. Had this child not been intended for his own consumption?

"Alucard-" there was an edge of contempt in the Hellsing knight's voice- "I would like you to meet Walter- Walter Dornez." He attempted to push the boy out into the open, but the youngster clung resolutely to Arthur. Alucard's eyes darted from the boy to his master and back again, feral and confused.

"Walter, this is Alucard. He won't hurt you- that I can promise." Despite his assurance to the boy, he gave his servant a warning look. Alucard took the hint, his perverse mind immediately jumping to the worst of possibilities, were he to disobey: starvation in the dungeon for months on end, excruciating hours in the afternoon sun, perhaps even having his coffin taken away.

Walter looked up at Arthur, who gave a confident nod, and finally let go.

_Hmph, cowardly._ Alucard judged this little person without feeling; Child or not, it was still a human with countless flaws, and he was bound and determined to find them all.

The boy walked slowly towards the looming shadow of a man until he stopped, took a deep breath and stuck his hand out. "I- I'm pleased to meet you, sir!" he blurted, his eyes squeezed shut. He opened them only when he heard no response and looked up. The figure's body made an ethereal sigh as he bent low to grasp Walter's small hand in his own.

_Such small, cold hands. It's a wonder most children don't die off sooner._

Alucard rose to his full height and needed only to gaze questioningly at his master before he got the reply he was looking for.

"Walter will be staying with us permanently," Arthur declared. He could make out his servant's shoulders drooping ever so slightly and couldn't help but chuckle to himself. "And no, I won't permit you to snack on him. I do, however, expect that you treat him as you treat me. You are still a creature of Hell and are below any human, no matter how young. Come, Walter." He briskly motioned for the boy, who was busy gazing at Alucard's tarnished arm plates. "Yes, sir!" he called out, and scurried away behind Arthur.

Alucard watched the two leave with a contempt that was already taking root deep within him. How dare this boy just come in and take his master away from him? Arthur was not the most caring of people, but he was better than his father, and Alucard felt possessive of that good fortune. He couldn't allow for some runt of a human to suddenly become a new favorite pet while he drifted away into obscurity.

* * *

Little Walter Dornez lay in the huge bed that had been provided for him, fearing for his very life as the shadows on the walls and ceiling took on personalities of their own in his imagination. Sleeping in such a huge mansion was going to take some getting used to, and it didn't help that now he knew there was a monster lurking about… a vampire, as Sir Arthur had called it. The boy could no longer tell what was actually moving and what wasn't. He wasn't even quite sure why he was here in the first place. Nothing was explained to him as the friendly blond man, who would later introduce himself as Sir Arthur, directed him to the shiny black car, or even as he got out of the car in a strange countryside, far from where he had been before. All he knew was that Sir Arthur was now in charge and that he had said something about Walter having much potential, whatever that was.

"Just be brave, Walter. You know how to do that," he whispered to the dark. It gave no reply, leaving Walter's words to hang in the black air, which frightened him even more. It was as if he hadn't spoken the words at all, and that they were really just floating above him like little invisible ghosts, waiting to jump out and scare him or eat him like a dragon might. But after a while the words dissolved into the shadows and left Walter feeling somewhat relieved and sleepy. His eyelids began to droop and his arms and legs felt heavy under the multitude of sheets and comforters and blankets. That was when the noises began.

It started out faint, as if it were far away, but Walter's keen little ears picked up on a whispering noise. He told himself that it was probably just one of the domestic servants, and he pictured the face of one particularly kind elderly maid he had met earlier that day. But the noise grew until it was as if there were a group of old men whispering strange things outside the bedroom door. Walter peeked up over the top of all the bedclothes to see that the light from under the closed door was not obstructed by the shadows of anyone's feet. A chill ran up his spine as he hid his entire head under the covers. Under there, the noise was muted somewhat, and he felt that perhaps he couldn't be seen by whatever was out there, and it would leave to find someone else to scare. He had his doubts on whether it would be gone for good if it couldn't find him, but he decided to ride out the storm under the warm blankets regardless. Suddenly the whispering jumped into the room and right next to his bed. Walter froze in terror, not even daring to breathe. There were a whole muddle of voices whose individual conversations were unidentifiable; some male and some female. Some sounded like children and other sounded like mothers and fathers and even grandparents. But amidst the swirling chaos he picked out one voice that just wasn't right. It sounded awful, like it wasn't even saying anything- just moaning in pain or loneliness, or perhaps it hadn't had anything to eat or drink in a long time. It grew until the other voices were hushed in comparison and Walter was trembling. His eyes were squeezed shut and he tried to imagine Sir Arthur's cheerful smile or the old maid's friendly little "hello." But every time he tried, all he could see was a grotesquely distorted image of Arthur or the maid and some lurid scene of gore and destruction behind them. Walter's eyes suddenly flew open and for a split second, he believed it had all been a nasty dream. The whispering was gone and the room lay peacefully quiet. Feeling much braver, Walter poked his head up from under the covers to look at the light streaming in from under the bedroom door. What was there before him at the foot of the bed caused the color to drain from his face. A little girl, not much older than he, stood staring at him with her petite mouth slightly open and almond eyes that glowed red and pierced right through him. She wore nothing over her flawless, paper-white skin, but strands of perfectly straight black hair kept her decent from the waist up, her lower half mostly hidden by the bed's footboard. Walter found himself paralyzed as she continued to stare blankly at him, her wheezy, uneven breathing the only sound in the room. Suddenly it seemed that her eyes locked directly onto him. A smile began to emerge on her white face, but it wasn't a smile like the one Sir Arthur had, or the one that the maid had. This one was vicious and reminded Walter of a rabid dog. The little girl had a single set of gruesomely pointed teeth that shone dully, as if her mouth was completely dry. The smile grew and grew until it very nearly consumed the lower half of her face and the skin stretched unnaturally. Her eyes were nearly the size and shape of ping pong balls underneath perfectly straight bangs. A hiss, quiet at first, escaped the hold of her pointed teeth and began to form words. Her lips quickly spelled out hushed words the boy had never heard in his life, all the while her smile fading but eyes remaining unchanged. Walter still couldn't move, but he became aware of his own erratic breathing that was well on its way to being hyperventilation. He clutched the blankets in both hands until his knuckles turned white. He could think of nothing but the girl in front of him as if she were a black hole and all his thoughts were being sucked away. Just then the girl stopped whispering and threw back her head so that her face was at a ninety-degree angle with her chest. She stared at the ceiling for a moment, and then let out a piercing scream. Her hair floated up around her and consumed her until she was gone. Her scream echoed in Walter's ears as he sat there, motionless. He felt nauseated and the sweat began to form on his brow. He leaned back quickly and accidentally hit his head on the wall behind him. The shock of the blow finally sent him over the edge, and he began sobbing hysterically. Was this a dream? Certainly Sir Arthur would have heard the girl and come running by now, had the whole thing been real. But, little Walter couldn't deny the existence of the tears on his face or the fear that he now felt aching in his head.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Phew, another chapter! This one seemed more shaky than the last, but I don't know- perhaps it won't seem that way to you. Enjoy!**

As morning broke over the dew-moistened English countryside, so did three or four plates. Every day in the Hellsing mansion was harrowingly eventful, and each day was started with a different crisis than before, regardless of how ready anyone was.

Young Arthur Hellsing hated mornings. When he first took over the vampire hunting business from his deceased father, there was a certain thrill about waking up with the sun to a house bustling with servants and military personnel. But after only a few years, the glow wore off, leaving Arthur feeling less rested than the night before and stuck with having to resolve nearly a dozen problems before he could so much as make it to the shower in the mornings. It certainly didn't help that his father had also left him with a half-domesticated vampire that was constantly getting underfoot and scaring the maids and butlers half to death. Sometimes he moped about, contemplating how it wasn't fair for a young man such as himself, whose college days were still off in the future by a year or two, to be running such an occult little 'profession.' But he refused to defy his late father's wishes, which were expressed between fits of coughing as he lay on his death bed. No matter the turmoil, Arthur was always brought back to that morbid scene and shamed himself to have even considered griping about unfairness.

Regardless, sitting there in bed and listening to the shattering plates and a shout from multiple servants, Arthur was sobered by the prospect of the addition of a small child like Walter. He refused to get up and face whatever ruckus was waiting for him to resolve downstairs and contemplated what he could possibly do with Walter in such a disarrayed house. Under the skin of a small, rather timid boy he could see a strong-willed young man with unmatched cunning and skills. It was going to take some work to make the shy lad see those qualities, but Arthur felt it would be necessary if he were to build and maintain a more stable vampire control organization. It was unmistakable what he had seen when he had passed Walter by on the street on one of his trips in to the capital.

He puffed at his cigar as he recalled the dirty little face peering up at him with some dismay after the gentleman had swiftly plucked a stolen apple from his hand. He hadn't chased the boy far from where the vendor's cart had been in the marketplace where he had originally been browsing the vegetable vendor's wares to get away from the dingy old mansion, but keeping on the tail of a small child who knew the narrow streets of London better than he was truly a chore and left him less than pleased with the child.  
"Now where were you thinking of going with this, hmm?" he asked slyly, keeping the apple just out of the boy's reach.  
"I just wanted one!" the boy cried as he tried to knock Arthur to the ground by pushing at his leg, then jumping up to grab the outstretched arm that was holding the apple to topple him. But Arthur stayed upright, and the boy finally stopped to rest, his hands on his knees and panting.  
He surveyed the boy for a moment and said casually "you don't look to be at risk of dying of starvation anytime soon. Where are your parents?"  
The little boy only looked up at him and glared, his sapphire eyes glinting dangerously. Realizing what he meant, Arthur approached the question differently, refusing to let such a miserable child have the last word.  
"Well you must have someone who's keeping you fed, don't you?"  
"I don't like it there!" the boy shouted violently. Eyes around the pair began to settle on them, and their gazes urged Arthur to appease the boy somehow before somebody questioned him on harassing a child. He looked once at the apple, then again at the boy, and walked back the way he came without a word. Miraculously his plan worked, and the boy stalked after him, shoulders squared and feet set wide. He scowled unpleasantly, apparently determined to get the apple back at any cost.  
"Where are you going?" the boy demanded crossly as Arthur strolled back to the marketplace. He followed closely until he saw that the man was approaching the stall from which he had taken the apple and ran the opposite direction to hide behind a stranger's legs. Arthur could see just out of the corner of his eye that the boy was running the opposite direction- most likely to avoid any possible trouble. Smiling to himself, Arthur held up the apple as if he had plucked it from its mates in the basket and requested to buy it. The boy slowly approached the man again and gazed up at him, this time with curiosity. Arthur smiled down at him, not altogether coldly, but certainly not in a welcoming manner, either.  
"Perhaps we should find where you've come from," he announced to the boy. "Please do a gentleman a favor and do so for me, shall you?"  
So the boy led the young knight back to his orphanage in a daze, unsure if he was going to speak to the mean old lady about his failed exploit or simply see him back safely. It didn't matter much, though, given that he didn't want a repeat of the humiliation of being caught after attempting to run away.

"Causin' trouble as usual, I see," growled a stout lady over the sounds of children shouting and playing. While Arthur was not aware of it at the time, he would come to know eventually that everyone who had even the slightest knowledge about living in that orphanage knew to stay away from the short woman and her even shorter temper, and that he had made the mistake of talking to this particular caretaker about the boy.  
"Then I presume he is yours?" Arthur asked disdainfully as he eyed the small, dirty entry hall. "I found him wandering the streets by himself. The poor boy could have been hit by a car or trampled by a horse." He could almost feel the sigh of relief that the boy let out when he realized that Arthur was not going to rat him out. However he was apparently not completely out of trouble and looked up at the woman woefully in hopes that he may be able to redeem himself in some way or another. "Don' be givin' me that face, young man!" she snapped. "I'm so sorry to have let this little scoundrel trouble ye, sir." She turned to Arthur with a different personality, expecting him to return the gesture as though the boy were nothing. But when he gave an unamused stare she bristled.  
"Why do you not keep a better eye on him if he is the troublemaker you make him out to be?" Arthur asked tersely.

"Sir, ye must understand, this is modern-day London. We may know what we're doin' better'n we did 'round 50 years ago, but there's still too many children," she replied just as coldly.  
"Then it seems you must find more creative solutions than giving them the opportunity to escape. Good day, madam."

The rest of the day was rather uneventful, and Arthur succeeded in spending an uninterrupted day unwinding. He perused the wares of a few more market stalls, wandered the streets washed in bright sunshine, musing on what an effective punishment it would be to take Alucard with him on another outing like this were the vampire to ever disobey his orders, and finally stopped to rest at a café and watch the people pass by. Though sitting there at the little table, drinking some crapulent, unidentifiable tea, his mind could not help but wander back to those large blue eyes that glared up at him through long, unkempt bangs of black. The memory wasn't disturbing- it was just haunting. Despite the animosity in those eyes, there was something behind that, too. It was a pleading, Arthur decided, to be released from whatever little corner of Hell that orphanage was, and to- what was he thinking? He had a vampire hunting group to run. He couldn't be caught up in the plight of every orphaned child that he met. He had to stay focused on his own life and make his organization better than it had ever been before.

With that thought, he stood up and made his way back to his car, where his driver would be waiting to take him back to the mansion.

"Hmph. I think you made the right choice to leave it where it belonged. After all, you said it yourself, master, what on earth would you do with such a… a boy?" Alucard had difficulty thinking of such a thing as the creature Arthur had described to him that evening by the fire as anything worthy of living. "Children are nothing but a dirty, noisy nuisance. Such a man as you would have no expendable time or energy for one." The light of the fire made the vampire's entire features flicker eerily except his eyes and mouth, and his words from his servant hit Arthur hard in the chest, even though he knew that such ideas were completely normal for the hell spawn.

Nearly a week passed, and still the boy's eyes haunted Arthur's tired mind. Whenever he was not busy with filling out papers of some kind or another, he would absently let his pen drop to the desk top and his mind would immediately go back to the giant orbs of blue under scruffy black bangs. Every time they appeared to him, they looked more and more pleading.

It was on the seventh day, Arthur recalled quite vividly, as he had been mentally keeping track of the days since his visit to London, that he could bear it no longer.

"Wherever are you going, master?" inquired a deep voice from behind the walls.

"Out," the master replied tersely, straightening his cravat in the mirror before rushing around his bedroom some more, trying to find his pocketbook.

"That's quite a bit of money to be taking with you, are you sure that's completely safe?" A dark figure melted into the corner of the creamy wallpapered room.

"Don't question me," Arthur glared. "You know better."

"Of course," replied the voice. Though there was a hint of bitterness. Arthur picked up on it and chuckled disdainfully.

"I know you don't think it's a good idea to go and get the boy, but your own reasoning is flawed."

The shadow shifted uncomfortably. "Sometimes I wonder who the actual one is doing the mind reading," it said half teasingly, half menacingly.

"You're a creature of Hell. I highly doubt you understand why I feel the need to go back for this boy."

"You are correct in at least one way," it growled, "but perhaps if you were to explain your reasoning to me-"

"Intruding rudely on my thoughts isn't enough for you?" Arthur looked through the mirror and saw nothing behind him, but stared anyway. The shadow drifted further into the room until its cold black tendrils grazed Arthur's back. He shivered, but stood firm. Master and servant stood motionless, the tendrils sending out small shivers and in turn being warmed only seconds at a time by the human before the heat would evaporate away. Arthur felt his mind becoming consumed by this euphoric concept, his eyes growing heavy. He began to feel warmth welling up inside him. He wanted more of it, and allowed himself to drift deeper. The warmth began to twist itself into something else… a desire- no, a _need_. He let out a soft sigh and the shadow drew nearer. Every muscle in his back relaxed until he wondered vaguely if he might fall down in a heap on the floor. The need kept growing until the knight realized what it really was. He became aware of his own body and realized how painfully erect he was.

"I'm leaving," he announced suddenly and loudly, breaking every tie the vampire behind him had so meticulously woven. The creature noted his master's flustered mind. "You cannot hinder me from what I have decided to do, no matter what you try. I don't know why you think such a trick would work on me; we both know full well that I would never allow you to desecrate me in any way- especially a way as filthy as _that._"

With that, Arthur closed the door behind him, leaving the shadow all alone in his room.

The car ride in to London could not have been a longer one. Arthur struggled to undo what Alucard had so craftily done to influence his body. He was all too grateful to find that, after reciting in his own mind some of the few poems he still remembered from his days in school, he was back to normal before reaching his destination. He made a note not to let that go unpunished.

The stout woman was surprised to see Arthur back again, but decided to be grumpy rather than maintain her air of mild shock- even when the tall blond man requested to see the boy he had left behind a week earlier.

The boy had not changed much, aside from some bruises on his arms, undoubtedly a side effect of fighting with the other boys. His eyes still radiated sapphire blue under untidy raven hair and pierced Arthur's soul. As soon as the woman left the two alone, the boy blew his bangs out of his eyes with a curt puff and crossed his arms.

"You wanna make fun of me again?" He snapped. Arthur resisted the urge to correct the child's disrespectful behavior and forced a smile. "I would like to take you home with me."

All expression quickly deserted the boy's face and left him staring blankly up at the man. "You… you what?" But it was too good to last, and the glare as back all too soon. "Is this some sort of joke? I don't like when anybody messes with me- especially you adults. You don't know who I am!"

"Then allow me to be the first to find out," Arthur replied, his patience finding him at last. He got down on one knee to better see the boy eye to eye and carefully asked "what is your name?"

The boy looked at him apprehensively, but decided to answer anyway. "Dornez- Walter C. Dornez."

"What a fine name!" Arthur replied with a genuine smile. The boy, however, was still not impressed. "And how old are you? When is your birthday?" Arthur persisted.

"Well, I'm already six years old," he replied, puffing his chest. "And I was born in March."

"What is your favorite thing to do in your spare time, Walter?" Arthur asked. He knew that with every question he imposed, the more familiar he would become with Walter, and the more trust the boy would place in him.

At this question, Walter's chest deflated. He thought for a moment, forgetting all about being tough for the man. Finally, he opened his little mouth. "I… don't know."

Arthur stood up and patted Walter on the head. "That's quite all right, I'm sure you'll find something that captures your interest."

"Don't touch me," Walter growled, and pushed Arthur's hand away. He gave Arthur a doubtful look. Arthur simply returned the look with a warm, confident smile. "So do you think you're ready to go home?"

The absent look nearly overcame Walter as the reality struck him once again, but he fought it off and looked over his shoulder to the window facing into the small, desolate courtyard. He gazed for a few moments, taking in his last of the orphanage. Suddenly he turned back, eyes wide with wonder. "Yes."

"That's all? Do you have any friends you want to say goodbye to?"

Walter looked out the window again for a few moments, then shook his head and said "no, let's go."

* * *

The record player on the opposite end of the room sat stuck on the same three notes of a song that Arthur had heard at least three dozen times and his morning cigar was already nearly gone. He became irritated at his situation and realized that he would eventually have to get up out of bed to fix the record and get another cigar or perhaps order for his breakfast to be brought to his room- provided that someone would be able to carry out that order. It was a shame that his butlers were almost always busy first thing in the morning. Since the Great War, finding retainers for such a reticent family as the Hellsings had been a difficult and frustrating task.


End file.
